Protected
by Tundros
Summary: A worgen on guard duty finds a young man alone in the snow, homeless and freezing. He rescues him and decides to take care of him until he can fend for himself. M/M Rated M for sexy times in future chapters and because we don't want to shock the kids with the gayness. No sir, wouldn't want that.


**Disclaimer**: All copyright belongs to Blizzard

**Author's note**: My peak in writing activity as of late is created by my own mental weakness. I apparently struggle with the fact that people around me act in ways I cannot predict and I hate not being able to predict the actions of others. It makes me feel nervous and a little powerless. So here I create my own little world where the characters must follow my every whim. That's right, dance puppets, dance!

O

Devon was seriously pissed off. His superiors had sent him out on the streets to patrol on the coldest freaking night of the bloody year. It was probably because he had sliced the straps of the captain's saddle which had made him fall out off his horse. The bastard had it coming, though, after humiliating Devon in public just to show off to some ladies.

The worgen pulled his coat tighter around himself. He wore to fight off most of the cold, but the chainmail he wore was still freezing and he felt it through the shirt he wore underneath it. A particularly strong gust of wind blew some snow off the rooftops which landed on top of his head. Devon let out a string of curses, wiping the snow from his black fur. He had refused to wear any kind of protection for his head, but he regretted it after the first minute. Since he didn't want to seem weak, he had not wanted to return to the headquarters to pick it up. The worgen had a small house in a different district of the city where he had a few hats lying about, but if someone saw him there and not on patrol, he'd get in trouble.

He walked down some stone stairs and turned around the corner, as he finally saw the first interesting thing of the evening. Devon first mistook the thing in the corner for a bundle of blankets covered in a thin layer of snow, but it couldn't have been there for a long time, since it had been snowing for hours. It didn't look awfully suspicious, but the worgen decided to check it out nevertheless. What he saw there left him speechless for a moment. A man... no, a boy rather, sat huddled under a coat and a blanket, shivering vigorously. He didn't even have the strength to look up at the black-furred guard.

Devon hunched down near the boy. "Are you quite alright there? Don't you have to get home?" The worgen's questions were met with silence. Eventually the boy turned his head and looked at the worgen, making a shaking motion with his head, his expression one of fear, but even more so one of defeat.

"Surely there's someone waiting for you. They must be worried. It's the middle of the night. Where do you live?" The worgen moved a little closer and tried to swipe some snow off the young man. This made him recoil, trying to hide further into the corner he was sitting in. With a raspy voice, the boy shouted: "Leave me alone! I don't have a home and I don't need your help!"

"You can't be serious. You'll freeze out here. It's my duty to take care of this city's citizens and that includes the homeless. Let's get you someplace warm, come on." The young man didn't move an inch; he simply looked afraid and incapable of doing anything. If the worgen hadn't passed by, he would have frozen to death. Devon waits a little while longer before he moves closer to the boy and picks him up in his arms. With some weak cries and flailing arms, the youngster gets carried through the silent, snow-covered city by the large worgen. He had hoped to be able to warm up the boy who seemed to be near suffering from hypothermia, but his body heat didn't reach through all the layers he wore. The guard hoped the boy wouldn't die here in his arms. He didn't handle death well, especially not when he could have prevented it. As the young man closed his eyes, the worgen started jogging, praying he wouldn't be too late. The freezing winter air blew a swirling mass of snowflakes around them, the worgen cursing a last time at the weather before he bursted into an inn.

"I'll take my regular room." Devon said to the innkeeper, already walking up the stairs. "Your regular? I haven't seen you for mo-..." The wolf slammed the door shut behind him, shutting off the noise of the innkeeper's voice and quickly laid the young man down on the bed, removing the youngster's clothes, who had slipped away into unconsciousness. He felt a little awkward stripping the boy while he couldn't do anything about it, but he had to do what had to be done. As he slid down the young man's trousers, he gulped. Apparently this one did not feel the need to wear any undergarments. He quickly covered the naked body with the thick blanket, not allowing him to stare at the youth. Just as he did so, somebody knocked and opened the door. "Devon, could you at least ask whether the room is free next time you come here? Other people have been staying here now that you've bought a little place of your own. Why didn't you go there? And who is that?" The old innkeeper took a step into the room, but he remained near the door, looking rather puzzled at the entire situation, noticing the boy's clothing on the floor.

"I'm sorry, Nes, but it was a matter of life or death. This kid had been out on the streets for too long. One more hour and he would've been dead." The worgen sat on the bed, next to the still body of the youngster. He glanced worriedly at him before he turned his attention back to the innkeeper. "Could you do me a favour? Put a kettle of water on the stove and make us some tea. And could you send someone out to inform the other guards that I'm off duty due to... unforeseen circumstances. I'll go and explain it to them myself in the morning."

"Of course, my lad. But you're paying for the room." The worgen managed a small smile and the old innkeeper took off to take care of everything. Devon pulled down the blanket a little and placed a paw on the young man's chest. He still felt as if he was freezing. The guard grunted and took off his coat and chainmail armour, crawling under the blankets next to the boy and pulling him against him. Body heat still worked better than a blanket, everybody knows that, the worgen thought to himself.

He ran his paw over the youngster's arm. "Come on, don't you die on me." Devon said, and after a while the body next to him started warming up again, at least a little bit. He heard the boy make a soft noise, which made him let out a sigh of relief.

The innkeeper walked into the room with a pot of tea and two cups. He also carried another blanket, draping it over the two. He did not make a remark about the two of them lying there together, although it must seem awkward. "Thanks, Nes. Put the tea here, will you? I'm not sure if he'll wake up anytime soon, but at least I can have a cup. If I'm not careful, I'll freeze just by touching this kid."

Nes placed the platter on a small bedside table and poured a cup for the worgen. "Since you're staying for the night, would you like me to wake you at a certain time tomorrow morning?"

"If you could. Seven or eight would be great. With a bit of luck I can quickly head over to the headquarters before the kid wakes up. The way he's doing right now, he should make it through the night."

"That's a relief. But what will happen to him after tonight? Won't he be sent back onto the streets? If he has no work and no home, he'll be in the same situation in no time. And this is the worst period of winter. I don't think the weather will be getting any better anytime soon."

Devon frowned a little, pulling the young man a little closer against him. He softly rubs his feet against the boy's underneath the blanket as the worgen appears thoughtful for a moment. "I've got no answer for you yet, but I'll think of something. I can't just send this poor guy back out there after going through all this trouble to save him."

"Of course you can't, but what can you do? He's too old for the orphanage." The innkeeper looked at the youngster and sighed, turning to leave. "You get some rest, Devon. It's long past midnight. I'll wake you in the morning."

After the door was closed behind the old man, Devon looked at the boy again. Even though he was still fairly pale, a bit of a blush returned to his cheeks. After a quick cup of tea, the guard blew out the candles in the room and drew the bare body of the boy closer to him, feeling content that he saved a life tonight. And that he no longer had to walk around in the bloody cold.


End file.
